Songfic Series
by Magicallioness
Summary: A series of one shots written to the lyrics or inspired by a song, any song. Can be any category, any pairing, any rating. Just me and my imagination.
1. Again

_Disclaimer:  
Anything belonging to the HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and others who have bought the rights to meddle with her toys. __Anything that's not is mine, unless stated otherwise. __I'm just playing around here, not making money, so please don't sue._ _I don't own the song. __HIM was the one who came up with this tearjerker._

_Author's note's:__  
On both my LJ and Fictionalley accounts and now here too I post in my own ongoing series: my Songfic Series. Yes, I'm an obsessional songfic writer, so if you don't like, you'd better not read.__This was written to be H/D, but can essentially be H/anyone. Warnings for dwelling on suicide. Major thanks to cluelesschase, who did some lightening fast and very helpful betaing on this. All remaining mistakes are most certainly mine.  
Please enjoy._

**Again**

Your eyes are turning dull again. Empty, like hollow shells that once held something meaningful. Soon, dark circles will appear under them, mirroring the darkness that is descending on your soul. I see it, because the very same heavy blanket descends upon me.

I watch and count the signs as you lose interest in everyone around you. Snape can torture you all he likes; it doesn't phase you anymore. I know, because his praises have become just as meaningless to me. I see as you watch the world turn without you. You don't feel like you're a part of it anymore. You feel like you don't belong here and I know you're close now. So I watch you.

_I see you turn your back on life again_

When you wander off into an abandoned classroom late at night, I know this is it. I hurry after you and can only just prevent you from Aveda Kedavraing yourself. You just stare at me and don't utter a word. I know you don't understand why I'm here to save you time and time again. You know I don't either...

It takes your friends a full hour to find you, sitting on the floor opposite me, staring into my eyes. They take you away, patch you up. Or try to. I know it's only going to be temporary, but they don't pay any attention to me. I'm left sitting right where I was, staring into nothing.

They put you in the Hospital Wing. Your friends come and visit everyday. Lupin has long talks with you; McGonagall, short ones and I watch as they tell you lies. They tell you everything you do has been right, that you are going to defeat Voldemort, that it's not your fault those people died. And I see you slowly starting to believe them again. I know it will only work for a while; within months you'll have realized the truth again. But they don't let you see the truth, they don't let you handle it and slowly, the darkness lifts.

_And I see your stumbling down worked smooth again_

You're back in classes within three weeks. It took them longer than last time, but you're back. The light has returned to your eyes. They're shining as if every day is another miracle and I feel my eyes start to shine too. But I also feel the doubt underneath. And the fear, because no one seems to be able to help you.

I watch and wait, knowing it won't be long. You last for about a month and I realize you're cracking sooner every time. There's no talk in the hallway, no whispering during classes. Just a note one night, when I'm alone in my room. _I need you_, it says simply. It's signed _HP_.

I know where to go and effortlessly find my way to the hidden cave on the shores of the lake. You're already there. I touch your shoulder and you turn around, tears streaming down your face. You don't talk, neither do I, as I take you in my arms and kiss you. You kiss me back and I can taste the despair on your lips. Your lost, adrift at sea and I'm the only one who knows how you feel, I'm you're only anchor. But I'm just as desperate as you.

_I feel despair kissing our lips again_

This entire moment is desperate. We were born out of despair. And we both know nothing good can come of this, as we make love. But there's nothing else we can do, nothing else will make this world bearable. But it only works for so long and as we cling to each other to fight off the darkness that is lurking in our minds, I know the worst is yet to come.

_I feel despair holding our hearts again_

For me it comes as soon as you leave our cave. You won't be back, I know. This is always a one-time thing and every time you make it clear to me that it shouldn't have happened at all. That you've made a mistake. And every time hurts more than the last. I don't want to be your mistake.

It's my turn to cry. But for me there are no kisses, no strong arms to fend of the pain. There's just the vision of your retreating figure. You don't look back, not once.

_You hear me crying behind your back again_

That heavy blanket has settled over me again. I know you see it, because I see that empty look returning to your eyes. Soon, you will stop sleeping and start wandering through the castle at night, thinking, realizing. And I'm with you again, slowly sliding down into that black hole.

I have no tears left now; like you, I'm past crying, past caring. And you watch as I look at the world turning without me. We're no longer part of it, we've stepped out again. And I know, I'll have to save you again soon. Save you from the world, from your friends and from yourself.

_You hear my heartbeat slowing down again_

And after I've saved you and your friends have patched you up, you come to me again. Snow is falling when I meet you at our cave, but there are no footprints. You must've been here for a while. I worry about you, because I can feel you slipping further every time.

You're not crying this time and I think this makes it worse. Again our despair is palpable when we kiss. I can almost see you falling through blackness behind closed eyes. As I open them to get rid of that image, I see tears sliding down from under your closed eyelids and I'm relieved.

_I feel despair kissing our lips again_

You keep crying all through our lovemaking. And it brings tears to my eyes too. You brush at them, shaking your head, but I can't stop them. And we cling to each other again, crying and desperate. And I feel the need to flee this world grow.

_And I feel despair holding our hearts again_

I feel the need grow in you. But I know it grows in me too. Every time I save you, that need becomes a little greater. Every time you leave me behind in this cave it gets stronger. I've saved you countless times and as I watch you walk away again I wonder: when are you going to save me, Harry?

HIM – Again


	2. Because of Me

**Summary:  
Draco wakes in a hotel bed. Evidence triggers a flow of good memories, but as they day draws on, those memories turn out to be a lot less fun than the Slytherin anticipated.**

_Disclaimer:  
Anything belonging to the HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and others who have bought the rights to meddle with her toys. Anything that's not is mine, unless stated otherwise. I'm just playing around here, not making money, so please don't sue. I don't own the song. It belongs to the Robert Cray Band._

_Author's notes:  
This, believe it or not, was the first fanfic I've ever written. It's finished and beta'd by several people. Hope you enjoy. Reviews are always very welcome._

**  
Because Of Me**

I wake up in a strange bed. The sheets are clean, but far from luxurious. I yawn and turn around, determined to ignore the beam of sunlight that shines through the curtains. It's at this point that I find out the sheets are not clean. There's a wet spot in the middle of the bed. My eyes fly open when I realise what a wet spot in the middle of the bed usually means: sex. I sit up in bed and let the memories of last night flood me.

Flaming red hair, warm brown eyes and a fiery temper. I moan and drop back on the pillow. I can't believe this! I fucked Ginny Weasley? But my dismay soon fades as I remember what a good fuck she was. Maybe I should've asked her where she lives now? Why the hell didn't I ask where she lives? She couldn't have been that good, could she? I smile as I remember. I asked, but she wouldn't tell. She's Potter's girl. Grinning wickedly, I get up and head for the shower. I fucked Potter's girl.

The fun dissipates a little when I realise she walked out on me while I was sleeping. And then even more when I remember how I met her here in the first place. She and Potter had hired the room next door. And I don't know when she left. For some strange reason I hope she left early enough to make sure Potter didn't notice she was missing. She told me he was visiting Hermione and – please, Merlin - let it have taken up all evening because I really don't fancy dealing with Potter when he finds out I screwed his girl. Suddenly, I don't feel like going down for breakfast. I order room service instead. **  
**I look over at the clock located on the small table next to my bed. Turns out it's well past noon, so I have to order something from the lunch menu. Irritated about the fact that I slept in against my will, I snap at the boy who brings the cart and don't tip him. He looks like he wants to kill me and, once again, I'm reminded of Potter. I pick up my wand from the side table and put it in my back pocket, hoping Potter didn't bring his. Maybe the female Weasel is a good liar and he won't find out, but I'm not willing to take that risk.

I chew on my sandwich without even tasting it, the sour flavour of worry taking over my mouth. I drink my orange juice in one gulp and curse myself. Why am I getting so worked up about Potter? It's not like I never fought with him before. Hell, I probably fought with him more often then I exchanged full sentences with the righteous prat. But, somehow, I feel this is different and I check my back pocket to make sure my wand is still there.

There's a broad black box on the table in front of the bed and I try charming it to do something for about half an hour, but my mind keeps wandering to the room beside mine. I wonder what's going on in there and I curse my luck for hiring a room right next to Potter in the middle of Muggle London. What the fuck is he doing in Muggle London anyway? _I_ just wanted to get out of the Manor for a while, because being a Malfoy is hard work. But Potter doesn't have to do anything but bask in fame and glory ever since he defeated the Dark Lord. Since it is pretty difficult for a Malfoy to get a bit of peace and quiet in the Wizarding World at this time, I chose to stay in Muggle London. Trying to get said peace and quiet I went shopping at Harrods yesterday. That's where I saw Weasley's not-so-little-anymore sister and that's when I decided I wanted her. Now I wish I never had.

Grabbing the book I brought from the nightstand, I try to settle in the black leather chair that stands next to the full-length window. It has buttons in the seating and they keep making ugly red pits in my beautiful legs. I try swinging my legs over the broad elbow-rest, but only manage to yelp in pain. I make my way over to the small and clinically white bathroom and pull down my pants. What the…?! She bit me! She fucking bit me in the arse! I sigh and pull my pants back up. Great, just great.

Flinging the book on the bed, I grab the remote and turn on the television again. Perched on the end of my bed I zap through the channels hoping I will find something to get this whole situation off my mind. I end up staring at the grey floor covering. My mind keeps spinning in circles and I can't do a damn thing to stop it. It's like a broken record playing in my head. I hear Potter yell my name and next thing I know he's barging through the door, wand in hand. He hexes me before I can even get my wand out of my back pocket and I fall to the ground withering in pain, because his Cruciatus curse hit me square in the chest. Just as I think it is over he hits me with it again and then I hear him yell my name again. He's barging through my door again and the entire event happens repeatedly. After what seems like hours, the flow of images is finally stopped by the grumble of my stomach. I look at the clock, only to be startled by the fact that I almost missed dinner.

My circling thoughts have done nothing to help me gather courage enough to go downstairs, so I order room service again. Steak and potatoes will do tonight; I'm not really hungry anyway. It's the same boy bringing my food, blond hair pointing out from under his ridiculous green hat. I tip him double this time, and that seems to get the murderous glare off his face. If only it would be that easy with Potter...

I hear them just as I am putting a piece of meat in my mouth. My fork hovers in the air for a couple of minutes before I drop it on the plate, the clattering not able to drown out the voices sounding next door. They're fighting. I can't hear what they're saying but they both sound angry. I turn to look at the wall involuntarily. And that's when the first shouting begins. Not good. I think about leaving the room and spending the night somewhere in town, but that would only mean he could wait for me to come back and ambush me. Moreover, it would seem like I was scared. I'm not willing to give him that satisfaction. So I decide to sit it out, dinner forgotten on the dark-oak side-table.

_I can hear the couple fighting right next door  
Their angry words sound clear through these thin walls_

They keep bickering all night. Dropping to a normal conversation volume mostly, so I can't really tell what they're fighting about, but then again, I don't need to. It's already past midnight when they finally get to the main point, but there's no mistaking it. I can hear Potter shout 'You cheated on me!' right through the walls. I take my wand out of my pocket just to be sure. I really don't want to listen to this. Curse those thin hotel walls.

I know what comes next. I had too many of these fights myself, often being on Weasel's end of it, before I got smart. The grey and white striped wallpaper on the wall drives me crazy, but I'm unable to tear my eyes away from it. I wish I knew what was going on in there. I only need one look at Potter's face to know if he's just going to hex me or if he's going for the kill. And it isn't until this point that I understand that this is all my own fault. _She_ never intended this to happen. I just seduced her because I wanted to get laid and she couldn't resist; after all, who can? Maybe this time I have gone too far and I have no one to blame but myself.

_Around midnight I heard 'im shout "Unfaithful one"  
And I knew right then the axe was gonna fall  
It's because of me. It's because of me_

My train of thought is stopped short by Potter's voice passing through the wall again. He sounds hurt and his voice is raw with emotion, but he says exactly what I expect him to say. 'Who, Ginny? Who was it?' I hold my breath and pray she doesn't tell him it was me. If she won't tell him, he can't come after me. 'Don't,' I plead, 'don't tell him.' I can't hear what she says because it is too soft, but I know she didn't tell him because Potter's hurt and angry voice filters through the wall again: 'Don't lie to me Ginny, not again!'

_I heard him shout, Who is he? She mumbled low  
He said, "Baby, don't you lie to me no more."_

I look at the white bed sheets remembering the spot where she laid. I can recall her mumbling against my skin that she shouldn't do this as I kissed her.

I feel something I never felt before. Suddenly there's a rock at the pit of my stomach and, it seems to be hanging from the chain around my neck. It feels wrong. Dropping my head into my hands, I sigh. She loves him, she told me even while I was undressing her and, I didn't care. I didn't give a damn.

My head is brought up again with a violent movement as my name comes booming through the wall. It is the ugliest word I've ever heard, and I cringe as I think of what will happen on the other side of the wall. I stand and position myself in front of the door, wand ready just in case, and I hope that Potter doesn't know I'm right next door.

_And I'm listening through these thin walls silent o' shame  
As she called out my name I was right next door_

_It's because of me, it's because of me  
Because of me, it's because of me_**  
**

Nothing happens. Absolute silence from the other room. Slowly, I sit down again and try not to think about what's happening on the other side of the wall. Instead, memories of last night assault me. I feel her skin under my hands again. I hear her moan and sigh, but I also hear her whisper, over and over again, 'I shouldn't do this, it's wrong. I love Harry' while tracing kisses down my neck.

I gasp as I realise what I did. She was just another fuck to me, one of many. I didn't care about her or about what would happen, I only cared about getting laid, and I used every trick in the book to get Weasley into bed with me. It meant nothing to me and it probably meant even less to her, but she would have to pay. I ruined their relationship, I made both the female Weasel and Potter miserable: perfect, right? But this time something feels wrong, terribly wrong.

_Oh, she was right next door and I'm such a strong persuader  
She was just another note on my guitar_

And, suddenly, the silence in the other room has a whole different meaning to me. I can imagine them now: Weasley probably in the bedroom, Potter in the shower, looking in the mirror, unseeing. Both saying nothing, unable to speak because of their breaking hearts and choked-up throats.

_She's gonna lose the man that really loves her  
In the silence I can hear their breaking hearts_

Then the silence is broken and I hear somebody rummaging in the closets. And as the first rays of sunshine touch the spot were Weasley lay just two nights ago, I hear Potter barking goodbye before the door slams shut. I wonder which one of them left, but I don't have to wait for long. I can hear someone crying and I know it's Weasley. She must be on the bed: it stands against the wall between our rooms and I can clearly hear her sobs and her whispering. It takes me a minute to figure out what she's whispering and once I do, I wish I never had. 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Harry,' she whispers, over and over again. I try to fight it but I can't help remembering her when she was in her first years at Hogwarts. Pining after Potter, her hero. She finally got him after school, she was happy with him, but it didn't last longer than a year because I had to butt in.

_At daybreak I can hear him pack, say goodbye__  
I can hear him slam the door and walk away  
Right next door I can hear that woman start to cry_

I know I should go to her, but I have no idea what to say. I realise this is because there is nothing I can say. Nothing will ever get her back the hero she tried to conquer for over seven years. I want to comfort her, but I can't. She probably hates me even more than she did back in school. She lost the love of her live and it's my fault. It's because I made her do something she didn't really want to do in the first place. She was just being nice to me in the Art Gallery and I misused her kindness in the worst way possible, just like I do everyday, with everyone. Take what you can and leave them. Easy and without too much trouble. But this time there's trouble, I can feel it. Weasley lost everything because of me and I want to do something to make it right, that can't be good. I'm a Malfoy, Malfoys don't make mistakes so they don't have to make anything right…

_I should go to her, but what would I say  
It's because of me It's because of me  
Because of me Young heart_

Feeling confused, I undress and crawl under the still dirty sheets, trying to figure out what the hell is going on with me. I cringe when I roll into the wet spot once again and hastily roll away from it. Pulling the blanket up over my head to shut out the painful sobs from the other room, I screw my eyes shut. I never thought I would pity a Weasley but her sobs are heartrending and I feel…something. I never could've imagined hurting someone else could evoke a feeling different than satisfaction and I really don't understand it.

_Oh, she was right next door and I'm such a strong persuader  
She was just another note on my guitar  
She's gonna lose the man that really loves her  
In the silence I can hear their breaking hearts_

I leave early the next day, no longer trying to escape the Manor's solitude. It seems like a sanctuary to me now. I send the piccolo off with my trunks and turn to go, but as I walk by their room I stop to listen at the door, making sure she is still there. Something inside my chest hurts when I realise she is still crying. Silently, I slide a note under her door, reading the words on it as I do so. _I'm sorry. _They look incredibly void and empty to me, but it's all I can do even if everything _was_ because of me.

_Oh, she was right next door and I'm such a strong persuader  
She was just another note on my guitar  
She's gonna lose the man that really loves her  
In the silence I can hear their breaking hearts_

Right Next Door (Because Of Me) – Robert Cray Band


	3. Connection

**Summary:  
Harry takes a walk around the lake in some bad weather. Very mysterious things and an unexpected encounter lead to a surprising ending. **

_Disclaimer:  
Anything belonging to the HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and others who have bought the rights to meddle with her toys. Anything that's not, is mine, unless stated otherwise. I'm just playing around here, not making money, so please don't sue. I don't own the song. It belongs to Jan Hammer._

_Author's notes:__This songfic was written to Crocket's Theme, known to most people as the Miami Vice theme. Now the story doesn't have anything to do with Miami Vice, it's H/D, so if you don't like two man having a good time, please shoo. Crocket's Theme has no lyrics, hence the lack of lyrics in the story. This was written purely to the images that came floating through my mind when listening to the song.__No warnings needed, nothing serious going on.  
Please read and review._

**  
Connection**

A cloud of white fog came rolling in over the lake as Harry walked along its banks. Whispering shrivels went past him with surprising speed and then he was lost, completely engulfed by the untouchable, moist material floating all around him. It formed tiny droplets on his cloak and hair, giving them an unnatural shine. Harry stood, frozen, and smiled.

He could smell the lake on his right side. It smelled like rain after a hot, sunny day. The scent prickled in the back of his throat so that he could almost taste it. The lake, like the fog, talked to him too. The clear voices of the rippling waves calmed him.

Harry looked up, trying to catch a glimpse of the night sky. A patch of mist parted and he was given a view of the stars. It seemed like they had been strewn in the inky black heights carelessly, small and large spots of light, dancing around on their black stage without choreography. Harry, however, knew better. Orienting himself with the help of the dancing lights, he started walking again.

His feet made little sound on the moist ground of the lake's shores. The only thing that gave him away was the slight flapping of his cloak as it swung around his legs, the black fabric now heavy from the moisture. Harry stopped again, noticing that the droplets on his cloak seemed to be silver instead of colourless, like water was supposed to be. That's when he noticed him.

It had been the reflection of his silver hair in the water that had made the droplets appear so. Harry wondered if the other boy could do that to him too, to reflect on him so he looked silver, instead of the dead, black colour he had now. He grimaced at the thought that Voldemort hadn't even killed him and he looked dead already. Then he quickly looked at the other boy again, wondering if he had been spotted.

He hadn't. Draco was staring intently at the lake. His hair almost invisible in the white fog, his black cloak contrastingly so. It made him look like a dark figure with a pale face, rather than the nasty git Harry knew. And then he turned around.

Harry looked straight into two silver pools of light. He was hypnotised by Draco's eyes. Normally void of any emotion whatsoever, they were swirling with all of them now. It was as though Draco had let everything he kept inside out all at once. And then Harry felt something shift. Something in his chest gave way and he stared mesmerised as two small clouds of fog made their way from his eyes to Draco's. They drifted slowly and gracefully through the fog, easily separated from it because they were not white, but silver.

As the two shrivels touched Draco's eyes, he closed them for a moment. Harry would never forget what happened next. When Draco opened his eyes again, they were literally glowing. Silver light shone from his eyes, casting the rest of his face in shadow. His hair seemed to be on fire. A cold, liquid, silver kind of fire that sent the shoulder length locks flowing backwards on a wind Harry could not feel.

Draco spread his arms and rose from the ground. Floating inches from the shores of the lake, he looked up into the night sky and the mist parted for the piercing light of his eyes. When he looked at Harry again, the sharpness of the light was gone. What was left was an ethereal, that made his whole face look peaceful and soft.

Harry smiled and spread his arms. The silver glowing boy stretched his arms towards him and slowly, gracefully, just like the fog, began to float towards Harry. As he came closer, Harry could clearly see it was still Draco. Behind the silver glow, his eyes were exactly like he saw them earlier: two silver-grey pools, swirling with emotion. Pain, hurt, love, loneliness, anger, happiness, sorrow, everything shone through all at once.

Draco landed right in Harry's arms and Harry was surprised to find he fitted there quite well. The other boy sighed softly as he closed his eyes. When he opened them again the silver glow was gone, but not the turmoil of emotion. Slowly his hair fell back down on his shoulders, as he looked into Harry's eyes and smiled.

It was the first genuinely happy smile Harry had ever seen from Draco. Slowly he bent his head and kissed him, slightly surprised by Draco's willing response. When he looked back up into the silver eyes the storm of emotion was gone.

There was only peace.

And Harry smiled.

Crocket's Theme (Miami Vice theme) - Jan Hammer


	4. Poison

**Summary:  
Harry has been captured and is being tortured by Draco, or is he?**

_Disclaimer:__  
Anything belonging to the HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and others who have bought the rights to meddle with her toys. Anything that's not, is mine, unless mentioned otherwise. I'm just playing around here, not making money, so please don't sue. The song Poison belongs to Alice Cooper and not to me, I just like it very much.  
_

_Author's notes:_**_  
_**_This one is not for the tender souls, so beware. I'm still slightly disturbed by the fact that these things actually reside in my head... Harry/Draco although in a very twisted way. __**Warnings** for__ mentioning of sex, dubious consent, possibly rape, violence, adult theme's, male on male action. Beta'd by __cluelesschase__. Thank you sweety, for the beta and making me feel better about writing this_

**  
Poison**

I spit out a mouth full of blood, careful not to splatter him. It would only earn me another blow across the jaw. Malfoy sneers and trails the tip of his wand across my bare chest. It used to be smooth and well-toned. It is now full of bruises and scars and being immobile for - how long has it been now? Weeks, maybe even months – has caused a definite decrease in muscle tone. And in strength, I find, as Malfoy punches me in the gut.

I try to collapse, but I can't because of my chains, so I have to ride out the waves of pain that spread from my stomach through my entire body. I cough and half-heartedly wonder why I'm not coughing up blood again yet. It wouldn't be the first time Malfoy beats me unconscious, healing me only enough to make sure I live. I think he revels in bringing me pain and the look in his eyes often makes me wonder if he's punishing me for something.

The next blow hits me under the chin and I have to blink several times to dispel the stars that cloud my vision. Malfoy's face comes back into focus. He's grinning evilly, slightly baring his teeth. His eyes are hard, cold, like he isn't really in there. They will stay that way until later, until he feels he's beaten me up enough to touch me.

_Your cruel device_

He raises his wand again and I brace myself for the next blow. Somehow, he found a spell to recreate the blow of a man's fist and I'm his favourite practice buddy. The blow lands on my left shin and I have to bite my lip to repress a scream.

Apparently, that was the wrong choice to make, because suddenly my entire world consist of only Malfoy. All I see are hard grey eyes, all I hear is the fast paced beating of his heart. He stands so close I can feel his robes brushing against my bare chest as his ribcage expands with each inhaled breath. His hair tickles my cheek as he bends his head forward to whisper in my ear.

"Scream for me, Harry," he demands, then draws back and sends another blow to my right shin. I do as he asks: I scream, hoarse and helpless. Hopeless, because there's no one coming for me. And God help me, I don't want them to.

_Your blood, like ice_

Malfoy smiles in satisfaction and moves several meters away from me. I arch my back to watch him even though it sends ripples of searing pain across my spine: I know what's coming. Slowly, like he's performing a striptease – and maybe, in some morbid way, he is - Malfoy discards his robes. Then he turns, so I can only see his back. I watch his arms move slightly, slowly travelling down his torso and again, like all the times before, I'm ashamed of the way it makes me feel. I gasp softly as Malfoy's shirt drops to the floor of the dungeon.

His back is covered in scars. Small, jagged lines of raised skin painting a picture of pain on his body. He turns and looks at me. His eyes have changed, like they always do. They're burning, showing an emotion too powerful and too complex to name. It certainly isn't something as simple as anger, but it isn't hate either. And that disturbs me for some reason.

Malfoy slowly lifts his wand again, but this time it's pointing at his own chest. I fight to keep my breath from hitching as he draws it over his heart, reopening the wound I inflicted years ago. I watch, obsessed with the rich, red liquid that trickles down his chest, curls around his abdomen and makes stains on the rim of his trousers.

"You like this Harry? Then take it!" Malfoy commands as he steps in close and pushes my head against his chest. I lap at the wound obediently. There's nothing else I can do and I'm scared to think what I would do, if given the choice. Malfoy's cold to the touch and that only intensifies my fire.

_One look could kill_

"Lower," Malfoy directs and touches the tip of his wand to the side of my head. I almost whimper. I know what he wants me to do. I refused once and it nearly got me killed.

"If you so much as look up the next time, you're dead," were the last words I heard before I blacked out that time I disobeyed him. Back then, I would've given anything for him to stop. Now, I only pray he will continue. I know it's wrong, but I can't help it.

_My pain, your thrill_

As always, he doesn't continue. He steps back once I reach the rim of his trousers and laughs coldly as I whimper and try to follow him. My chains rattle as I pull against them, forming a strange melody to accompany Malfoy's chill laughs echoing through the hollow room. After a while I sink back against the wall and fight tears. This is all so wrong.

_I want to love you, but I better not touch__  
I want to hold you, but my senses tell me to stop__  
I want to kiss you, but I want it too much  
I want to taste you, but your lips are venomous poison_

What he's doing to me is wrong, but the fact that I actually want him to keep doing it is just plain disgusting. I can't help it though, I've tried, but I can't fight it. It's a good thing I'm in chains: I don't know what I would've done if I wasn't.

It's not that I see a hurt little boy who's lost his way and I want to help. I can see he's hurting, his eyes show it to me every time, but I don't care. I know he's lost, but I don't want to help him find his way. I just want him. I want to be able to touch him, kiss him, but he never lets me.

_You're poison running through my veins  
__You're poison  
I don't want to break these chains._

And I can't stop wanting him. At first I hated him for what he did, yes, but after a while it changed. Somehow, I didn't mind anymore and I welcomed the numbness but then I started to like it. Now I long for him, even when he's right in front of me. And I never want him to stop this.

_Your mouth, so hot_

I'm never allowed to kiss him, but he kisses me. As soon as I show weakness, the moment I'm vulnerable, he's all over me, trailing a burning line of kisses down my neck and over my chest. Making me short of breath, and dizzy, and forgetful of the tears burning at the back of my eyes.

_Your web, I'm caught_

But he doesn't stop there. He touches me. He touches me in all the places he shouldn't and I want him to. He reduces me to a body burning with desire, no mind to speak of present. I sometimes think this is the entire goal of his game: making my mind disappear, so he can have his way with my body. But if that were true, these visits would end differently.

_Your skin, so wet_

But it always ends the same. Just like it always plays out more or less similar. That is why I'm not surprised when Malfoy reaches for my trousers and pulls them down, along with my boxers. This is always followed by a ritual I still don't understand the meaning of.

First, Malfoy steps back and just stares at me. He stares at me like he wants to eat me alive. And just when I think he's going to be staring forever, he lunges for me. He pushes himself against me, his hands groping at every part of me he can reach. I love this part, because at this point I can feel his erection against my leg, his chest, now covered in a mad mixture of sweat and blood and saliva, sliding against mine. It is at this moment that I fervently wish I'm never found.

_Black lace on sweat_

I hate the part that comes right after this though. Malfoy pulls a richly embroidered black handkerchief out of his pocket, still pushing up against me. He trails this over my face, teasing, his lips pursed in contempt. Then he blindfolds himself – not me, but himself - and slides down across my body. I've begged him to take it off so I can see his face, but he only laughed coldly at that. Malfoy grabs hold of me and I can't help the moan that escapes my lips, even if I hate the blindfold.

_I hear you calling and it's needles and pins__  
I want to hurt you just to hear you screaming my name__  
Don't want to touch you but you're under my skin  
I want to kiss you but your lips are venomous poison._

As he sets about bringing me off with his mouth, I can't help but feel he's apologizing for something. It's always the same. First I feel like I'm being punished, then I feel like he's apologizing for something he'll never be able to make up for. And, like all the times he did this before, I don't understand. In some morphed, distorted way, it hurts that I don't understand.

But it's wonderful too. I scream his name when I come, I scream his given name, like I always do. And as I come down from this twisted high, I wish I could do the same to him. I wish I could hurt him in the way that will make him scream my name. He speaks it in commanding and demanding tones, yes. But he's never once screamed it.

He knows exactly what he's doing to me. He revels in the power he has over me, the pain and confusion he's causing me. I know, because when I finally catch my breath, he's right in front of me, but just out of reach. He teases me, when my entire body is burning to touch him, to kiss him.

_You're poison running trough my veins__  
You're poison  
I don't want to break these chains_

And I hate it. I hate _him_. I hate him, but I want him and I can't get rid of him. And I know this is wrong, completely wrong, but I don't want him to stop. He watches the hate and want play across my eyes and smiles cruelly.

I know what happens next. He'll release me from my chains, but he won't trust me not to hurt him. Which is logical, but hurts nonetheless. So with a wand pointed at my chest and an Aveda Kedavra on Malfoy's lips, I do as I'm told and lay on the wooden board that's supposed to be my bed. Malfoy puts me in a full body bind and checks my injuries.

Just before he stands up, he whispers in my ear. Always the same question, always the same cruel tone: "How do you feel, Harry?"

And I can never answer, because he's long gone when the body bind wears off.

Poison – Alice Cooper


	5. The Dating Game

The dating game

**Summary:**

**Harry is on the hunt for someone in Club Noir. Will he find him and what will happen if he does?**

_Disclaimer:_

_Anything belonging to the HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and others who have bought the rights to meddle with her toys. Anything that's not, is mine, unless mentioned otherwise. I'm just playing around here, not making money, so please don't sue. The song Aisha belongs to Khaled and not to me.  
_

_Author's notes:_

_Another story in my songfic series. This one was written while listening to Khaled's Aisha. There are no lyrics, because I don't know what the words of the song mean. I just listened to the music and wrote this silly little fluffy nothing. _

_Many thanks go to my wonderful beta Naadi. She's put more time into this story then she should've. All remaining mistakes are most certainly mine. _

_Please enjoy._

**Attraction**

He was here. Harry spotted him the moment the man entered Club Noir. Green eyes watched as the very reason he came to this club tonight walked over to the bar and ordered a drink. He couldn't see what kind of drink, only that it was poured into a long, slender glass. No butterbeer then, Harry thought. He kept watching when his subject sashayed towards the dance floor. The man was perfection personified: blond hair shining and swaying slightly, a body most people would kill for, and a face that would suit an angel. It had taken him almost ten years, but Harry Potter had finally discovered what made everybody fall for Draco Malfoy. And now, he wanted him for himself.

Harry stealthily checked the zipper and button of his black jeans and adjusted his white shirt, making it look as though the dragon on his breast pocket moved, before confidently making his way across the dance floor. He was no more a clumsy, insecure teenager than Malfoy was a spoilt, arrogant brat anymore. He'd courted many girls and boys, nearly all of them successfully, but none of them was able to give him what he needed. Which was, most likely, because even he didn't know what he needed.

Harry sighed in annoyance when a girl latched onto his arm and said something in his ear he couldn't hear above the music. "Hi", "what" and "alone" were the only words he could make out and he wasn't really in the mood to ask what she'd said. That would inevitably lead to conversation and he wasn't in the mood for that, at least not with her. He shrugged his arm loose and shook his head at the girl, before moving on towards the corner were Malfoy stood leaning against the wall.

The bright lights on the dance floor kept moving over Malfoy's still body, turning him into a black silhouette one moment and a blue coloured version of himself the next. He was smiling an enchanting smile as he slowly surveyed the dance floor. No doubt looking for a target, Harry thought. Harry smiled a little, knowing that unbeknownst to himself, Malfoy had become the target. Malfoy's smile didn't falter when Harry walked up to him.

"Hullo, Malfoy. Didn't expect to see you here," Harry said, opening what he hoped would be a conversation.

Malfoy put the leg that had been resting against the wall behind him down and looked up into notorious green eyes, no longer veiled behind spectacles. "Yes, you did. I go here almost every Thursday night," he answered matter-of-factly.

"All right, so you're the very reason that I came. Not really something a man wants everyone to know," Harry conceded, smiling and venturing a step closer to the man formerly known as the Ice-Prince of Slytherin. It was a reference to both his beauty and his coldness, but only now did Harry get the first meaning.

Malfoy threw his head back and laughed. But when he spoke to Harry again, the look in his eyes was quite serious. "I appreciate your honesty, Potter. Would you like a drink?"

Harry smiled and nodded, sending Malfoy off to the bar to fetch another Burning Rum with pineapple juice. Leaning against the wall, Harry watched hungrily as the icy blue fabric of Malfoy's tight t-shirt pulled just a little tighter around his back and shoulders every time he took a step, showing the muscles moving underneath. By the time Malfoy returned with his drink, Harry had gone through about twenty things he wanted to do to make those muscles move more.

"Here you go, Potter. So, what did you want from me?" Malfoy asked as he handed Harry his drink. Harry made sure their hands brushed against each other as he accepted the glass and was momentarily thrown off balance by the electric spark that their touch caused. Now _that_ had never happened before.

"Would you mind calling me Harry? The name Potter bears nasty memories, coming from your mouth," Harry answered, avoiding the question.

Malfoy frowned a little, pulling slight wrinkles between his eyes. "I'm sorry about that, Harry. I was a stupid spoiled kid who thought he knew everything there was to know about the world, but really didn't know the first thing," he answered, putting a hand on Harry's arm.

"I was very much like you, Draco, so it's all right, really. I've said and done some really rotten things to you too. Let's just call it even, ok?" Harry said, a soft smile playing around his lips. "Just stop frowning like that," he added.

Draco's frown deepened, however. He looked at Harry in confusion. "Why?"

Harry noticed Draco hadn't removed his hand. "It makes you look just a little less beautiful. Besides, there's no reason to frown," Harry answered, then took a sip of his drink while gauging Draco's reaction.

Draco looked at him sharply, as if trying to read whether Harry was serious or not. Then he tilted his head slightly to one side and smiled with one corner of his mouth. "You think I'm beautiful?" he asked, a little surprise breaking through his voice.

Harry switched his glass into his left hand. Draco's hand was still on that arm so there was no way he was moving it. He lifted his right hand and carefully stroked some of Draco's long blond locks back over his shoulder. "I think you're gorgeous. Don't most people?" Harry told him.

Draco took a step closer to him, placing them mere inches apart. "I don't care what most people think," he said, then frowned again. "You're taller than me."

It was Harry's turn to laugh. As he did, Draco's hand dropped from his arm. "Is that a problem?" Harry asked, still smiling.

"Not at all," Draco said, smiling up at him, a soft light shining in his eyes. "Would you like to dance, Harry?" Draco extended his hand as he asked his question.

Harry didn't hesitate to take it. "I'll dance with you anytime," he answered and winked mischievously at Draco.

Draco threw Harry a smile over his shoulder as he manoeuvred both of them towards the dance floor. Harry quickly emptied his drink and put it on one of the tables they passed. Draco had already lost his drink and was using his free hand to gently push people out of his way. The other still held Harry's.

Draco didn't let go of Harry until they were actually dancing. The song was quite fast and exiting, so Harry decided to blow off some steam and danced wildly. Draco seemed to have no trouble keeping up and they were laughing and applauding for each other, showing off their moves within minutes. They drifted quite far apart this way, but when a slow song started, Harry resolutely stepped very close to Draco. Harry felt soft fingertips on the back of his neck as Draco put both arms around him and eliminated the few inches that were left between them, then started to move seductively to the slow beat of the music.

Spurred on by Draco's actions, Harry put his hands in the back pockets of Draco's jeans and moved slowly with his partner, gently pushing him backwards. Draco let him, locking his grey eyes with Harry's green ones. Realizing he was now in control, Harry slowly backed Draco into the wall at the end of the dance floor, and removed his hands from Draco's pockets. Draco stopped dancing, but kept looking at Harry.

Harry put one hand on Draco's hip and used the other to softly touch his cheek. Draco's eyes closed and he gently pulled Harry closer.

"Draco…" Harry hesitated. Draco's eyelids fluttered open again and Harry stared into dilated pupils, circled by a grey-blue rim.

"Yes, Harry?" Draco asked, leaning slightly into the hand caressing his cheek.

"Draco … please don't hurt me," Harry spoke in a low tone. The phrase not quite a question, but not a warning either.

Draco gently stroked Harry's hair, the look in his eyes kind and serious when he spoke. "I won't hurt you, Harry," he answered. "Never again."

And Harry closed the little distance that was left between them and touched his lips to Draco's. The kiss was slow and gentle at first, but grew steadily more needy. Draco balled his hands into fists in Harry's hair as the kiss deepened. Harry's hands were touching Draco everywhere he could. They were both panting when they finally broke apart.

Harry tentatively brought his fingers to his lips and shook his head slightly.

"What is it, Harry?" Draco asked a little worriedly, gently pulling Harry's hand down from his lips and holding it.

Harry entwined their fingers. "It never felt this way before," he stated in wonder.

Draco softly kissed him again and stroked his cheek. "No, it hasn't," he admitted.

Harry shook his head again and smiled.

Draco pressed himself against Harry's body and looked up at his friendly features and green eyes with a mixture of amusement and new-found longing. "Harry, would you take me home?" he asked.

Harry smiled and nodded. He softly squeezed Draco's hand and led them towards the exit.


	6. Wonderful Life

_Disclaimer:  
Anything belonging to the HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and others who have bought the rights to meddle with her toys. Anything that's not is mine, unless stated otherwise. I'm just playing around here, not making money, so please don't sue. I don't own the song. HIM was the one who came up with this tearjerker._

_Author's note's:  
Latest instalment in my Songfic Series. First time I wrote Remus and I'm not entirely convinced he came out right. As always reviews are much appreciated._

**Summary:  
Remus ponders his life after the war and finds that something, or rather, someone is missing.**

**Wonderful Life**

I close the front-door of my small, suburban home softly and walk carefully down the gravel path. The soles of my shoes make crunchy noises each time I lift my foot and put it back down again. The noise reminds me of the many dirt tracks I wandered along in my life and I really don't want to think about that.

The gravel path turns into large, grey side-walk tiles as I leave my front yard. They remind me of the grey skies above Hogwarts those last days we were there and it's better, but still not what I want to think about at all. I really don't want to think about anything, but everything makes me think about something.

I sigh and wince at the pain that the air flowing too quickly in and out of my lungs causes. I'm an old man and the change takes more and more out of me every time it happens. I'll probably die before I complete it one of these days. I frown at the image. Half man, half werewolf, body twisted in on itself in pain. Cold, unseeing eyes. God, I hope I die before my eyes turn yellow.

It's only a short walk from my home to the seaside and the weather is wonderful, but it's still an effort for me. Yes, I'm an old man. Not by years, not really, but in mind and body, I am. And I'm tired. God, I'm tired.

I slowly make my way to the seashore, gulls gawking and flying overhead, and I stand and stare out over the ever moving grey waters. And I wonder what would've happened, what could've been if you hadn't died. What we could've done, would've become.

_Here I go out to sea again  
The sunshine fills my hair  
And dreams hang in the air  
Gulls in the sky and in my blue eyes  
_

Because in this world I have no place. Harry won and Muggles and Wizards talked and now everything is great, sort of. Magic is openly practiced. We wizards are still living in our own communities and still have our own schools and government, but we work together with the Muggles now, we talk. And really, the worst of the prejudices and fears are gone and the rest is going. Slowly but surely, we're learning to live side-by-side peacefully and without fear of each other.

And here I am, walking to sea every day, trying to grasp it all, trying to find my place in this new, strange world. And I have never felt more like I don't belong. Because now that everything else is perfect, now that the sun is shining and people are finally laughing again, you're not here. And it's just so unfair.

_You know it feels unfair  
There's magic everywhere  
Look at me standing  
Here on my own again  
Up straight in the sunshine  
_

I don't want to laugh like them. I remember too much to ever laugh again, I think. Dumbledore died, Snape died, so many people died. You died and I never want to laugh again. But I can't cry either 'cause everything is perfect and no one understands.

_No need to run and hide  
It's a wonderful wonderful life  
No need to laugh and cry  
It's a wonderful wonderful life  
_

_The sun's in your eyes  
The heat is in your hair_

Because if you're not here the sun doesn't shine. If you're not here, nothing really matters to me. I feel only cold inside and I'm so tired, Sirius. I'm so tired.

And unbidden and unwanted, because I really don't want to remember anymore, your words come back to me. Those words you said to me when you found out I was a werewolf. After Peter, James and Lilly had listened to my explanation and comforted me and told me it was okay, they went, but you stayed. And I remember the words you spoke to me Sirius, because that's when I realized that you understood, when no one else really did. "It won't matter what you do, no matter how good a life you lead, how many people you save, they will still hate you. They will hate you merely for living. They will keep trying to kill you forever and I'm not going to let them," you told me, right before you wrapped me in your arms and stayed until I had fallen asleep.

_They seem to hate you  
Because you're there  
_

And you were right, Sirius. Everything is perfect, but they still hate me, still fear me. They still don't understand and I need you here, Sirius. After all these years I still need you here, because you were the only one who understood. But more than that, you were the only one who truly accepted me the way I was.

Everybody else always distinguished between Remus and the wolf, but you didn't. You always saw them as one and the same person, even before I saw that. And you didn't care. You were my friend anyway and I still can't express how happy that made me.

Yes, I had one true friend and now you're gone. You have been gone for years and look at me. Even Harry has moved on, but I still come here every day and wonder about what might've been. Alone.

_And I need a friend  
Oh I need a friend to make me happy  
Not stand here on my own  
Look at me standing  
Here on my own again  
Up straight in the sunshine  
_

I can do that now you know, walk around like everybody else. Even right after my transformation. They still hate and fear me yes, but they can't kill me anymore. I don't have to hide anymore, don't have to run as soon as people find out what I am. They're still scared, yes, but some of them also accept me.

Because magic is accepted in this new world and I'm part of that world. So I should be happy really. Because I finally got what I've wanted all my life: I get to live like normal people and I don't have to hide what I am anymore.

But I'm not happy. Because you're not here, Sirius, and it all doesn't matter anymore. It's all cold and painful to me now, but it doesn't matter, because I'm cold to. And tired. So tired.

_No need to run and hide  
It's a wonderful wonderful life  
No need to laugh and cry  
It's a wonderful wonderful life_

I really need you here, Sirius. You shouldn't have left me, you really shouldn't have. I need you to show me how to have fun, how to enjoy things. How to get this great, grey cloud out of my head.

But you're not here. It's just me, standing here, looking out over sea. Harry comes to visit me every now and then, you know. And Hermione and Ron of course. Minerva checks up on me. And I check up on Tonks once a week. She's in St. Mungoo's, she doesn't remember me, she doesn't remember anything. The doctor says her mind's not with us anymore.

But I'm still here. I see the sea, I hear the gulls and I feel the sun. I'm still here, but you're not.

_I need a friend  
Oh I need a friend  
To make me happy  
Not so alone  
Look at me standing**  
**Here on my own again  
Up straight in the sunshine_

And so life, though great, is hollow, meaningless. I watch Harry laugh and have fun with his friends, but I can't participate. I see Molly cry for the loss of her eldest son and only daughter, but I can't feel for her. I'm hollow and empty.

_No need to run and hide  
It's a wonderful wonderful life  
No need to laugh and cry  
It's a wonderful wonderful life_

I turn around slowly and take in the long stretch of sand that is the beach. The sun is still shining brightly, but the beach is empty. I smile wryly as I look at the undisturbed sand around me. There's only one pair of footprints here: mine. But sure, life is wonderful.

_Wonderful life**  
**_

_Wonderful Life - Black_


End file.
